


Pull the Blackout Curtains Down

by GamerAlexis



Series: Live With Me Forever [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Fake AH Crew, Immortal Fake AH Crew, Immortals, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 02:15:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8949841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GamerAlexis/pseuds/GamerAlexis
Summary: Tales from Immortal FAHC





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from, once again, Immortals by Fall Out Boy

This was how his life of crime started.  Not with a robbery or a murder or drug deal, but with the sound of a hand slapping on his desk, pink slip trapped beneath the well-manicured fingers.  Jeremy stopped typing up his weekly report and looked up at the owner of the hand.  The woman had dark hair, wildly curly and pinned behind her head.  She was dressed well; a black blazer over a bright red blouse and matching pencil skirt.  Her gray eyes were narrowed fiercely.

"Hello, Ursula," Jeremy said hesitantly.  "What can I do for you?"

"You can leave," Ursula said in a crisp voice.  "You and Bragg both.  Pack up your things and get the hell out of my precinct."

Jeremy stood up at that.  "Your precinct?  Last I checked, you weren't the Captain."

"I am now," Ursula said.  "And I'm going to fix this place up.  Pack up your things and leave, Dooley.  I won't ask again."

She turned on her heel and left Jeremy at his little desk, pink slip glaring on the wooden surface.  The Captain was a dick, no doubt about that, but he was at least loyal to the city, never got bought out by any criminals.  He had always done his best for Los Santos.  The same couldn't be said for Ursula.  Jeremy didn't have any proof, but he knew that she was in bed with at least one major crime boss in the city.

And, well, if he wasn't part of the LSPD anymore, nothing could stop him from finding the truth.

Jeremy tossed all his files on the Fake AH Crew into a box, gathered all his personal belongings (including the picture of him and Matt on vacation), shut off the computer and left the precinct without a second glance back.

 

Matt came home to their little apartment with a similar box in his hand that Jeremy brought home a few hours ago.

"Ursula got you too?" Jeremy asked from his spot on the couch.  "What a bitch."

"It was only a matter of time," Matt said.  He set his box on the kitchen table and walked to Jeremy, slotting himself into Jeremy's side.  Jeremy kissed Matt's forehead and clicked for the next episode on Netflix.  Matt shifted and continued: "Ever since the Fake AH got run out, the other crime bosses pushed their takeover.  Let's face it, babe, the city is gone."

Jeremy sighed and paused Netflix.  "We got to help somehow.  Geoff... he spared us.  He let us join his crew.  Anyone else would have killed us without thought."

"He's been gone for over a year, Jeremy.  We're all that's left and we aren't even criminals!  The best thing we can do is settle down and let it go."

Matt pressed the button to play the show and nestled himself further into Jeremy's side, end of discussion.

But Jeremy couldn't just let it go.  He joined the agency to help people, to keep people safe.  As far as Jeremy was concerned, Los Santos was under the rule of tyrants and thugs and it was his place to put an end to it.  And he would do it with or without a crew behind him.  Jeremy looked over at Matt, sleepy with bedhead and cradled in Jeremy's arms, and he knew he would do it alone.

Poor, sweet, naive Matt who didn't even want to really be with the cops, just wanted to do his tech business and stay low.  And instead he was here, fired and living in a cheap apartment and no future ahead of him.

Jeremy grinned and tugged Matt closer - this would fix all their problems.

 

Okay, so the color scheme was kind of awful, but it was all that was left when Jeremy bought his own weapons.  Based on the old intel from his Fake AH days, there was a warehouse on the east side of the city that belonged to the Corpirate.  It wouldn't be much, but it would be enough for now.  Dressed in a bright orange shirt and purple leather jacket, Jeremy put on a hat and some sunglasses and stole into the night.

The guards were dispatched easily and, with a few explosives placed, Jeremy ran off again.

The explosion hit all the docks and lit up the horizon like a sun.  Laughing like the maniac he was, Jeremy ran off into the city.

 

The next step was the name.  If Jeremy was going to be an undercover, criminal vigilante, he needed a name.  The idea came to him when he was out vandalizing Edgar's cars, cutting up the tires and denting the rims something fierce.  The news had called him the Rimmer on a whim and Jeremy cackled with delight when he heard it.  Despite being, in fact, a rimmer in the most vulgar of terms, Jeremy couldn't have that as his vigilante name.

So while singing to himself in the shower Jeremy started rhyming rim and tossing it around.

And then it came.  Rimmy Tim.  Soon to be the terror of Los Santos.  Dressed in orange and purple with a stetson on his head.  There would be legends of him and how he helped in the dismantle of the Corpirate and his criminal empire.  Jeremy was so wrapped up in his fantasy he didn't notice the bathroom door open.

"Goddammit, Jeremy," Matt said, sliding into the shower.  "Your singing could wake the dead."

"You love it," Jeremy grinned, kissing Matt's cheek.

Matt didn't say anything about the bruises along Jeremy's rib cage or the gash across his bicep, just sang and showered with Jeremy before heading out to work.  Jeremy grabbed his aviators, jumped on his motorcycle, and went out hunting.


End file.
